Thursday Prayer

I told someone the other day that you have this way of moving.
Of moving us.
I told them about how you see us over here.
And want us to go over there.
So you shift your weight and lug us heavy-headed ones along.
Sometimes you toss something sparkly out front to make us look.
And wonder.
Sometimes I swear you send a familiar scent.
Someone’s home cooking.
(That’ll get them moving.)
Occasionally there’s a ruckus off to the side.
Or trouble in the middle.
Just so we don’t get stuck sitting still.
(I wonder?)
You send the drummers, to help my feet keep pace.
Sometimes you light a fire beneath us to make us run.
You give us songs and sleeps and laughter and strength.
And you make sure we have snacks and companions and perfect strangers and shade and water and adventures and episodes, crumpled up maps, a little bit of baggage and some blisters, too.
But space for new dreams and relationships and moments and time.
You give us so much while we’re walking that we almost forget.
That we were back there.
Way back there.
But we’re not over here yet.
Wait, did we notice we’re already moving?
(Where are you taking us?)
I told them.
You have this way of moving.
Of moving us.
…I’m gonna put my shoes on.
(Just in case.)

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